No Control

Writing Prompts from the Fates

October 26, 2018 - This just came to mind while I was on Vacation last week...(410 words)

Now this is the only way to see the sights, she thought as she strolled up the steps of the nation’s capital building.

She didn’t have to contend with the plethora of joggers. No rabid tourists, or kids on leashes. No lines, no noise, no crowds.

Perfect.

She took her time through the giant, domed, stone rooms, admiring the state chosen pieces of art. She read the plaques and histories where she could find it, and she pondered over some of the pieces she saw. She high fived Abraham Lincoln, and she hugged the bust of Martin Luther King Jr. Those men were her heroes. They were great men, with great ideas and ideals.

There were no men like them anymore.

When she had had her fill of the historic building, she walked out the back doors and down the grand concrete stairs. The Washington monument loomed above her, piercing the low hanging gray clouds that trickled rain onto the empty city.

She didn’t mind the rain at all. She hadn’t felt more than stale, controlled temperatures for too long. The rain was refreshing, cleansing even – though it would never clean away her scars.

She was on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial when she finally heard it. She’d been expecting the cacophony of boots and guns anytime now. This was the longest it had taken them to find her, nearly five days, but they did always find her. If she bunkered down and hid, she could be free longer – but what was the point of being free if fear kept you locked away in a different prison?

She wanted to see all she could see before they destroyed her completely.

“Hands in the air!” a soldier shouted through his military issued gas mask, the entire squadron had their guns trained on her.

They treated her as if she’d caused the plague, when she knew as well as they did that she was their last hope. The only person to not die after contracting the sickness. There was something in her blood, they told her repeatedly, something that could save humanity. And they would take every last drop if that’s what it took.

“Right now, Hope. Hands up!” the soldier called again.

With a heavy sigh, she turned as she lifted her arms skyward. It was the cruelest of ironies that she was humanity’s last hope when she quite preferred the world as it was now.

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September 7, 2018 - Saw this scenario presented on Facebook, so I decided to give it a write...(664 words)